Needing
by Lariren-Shadow
Summary: Now, however, he couldn't fathom why she would be holding on to him like this. Like she would drift away if she let go. Zutara.


Title: Needing

Pairing: Zutara

Rating: R, but on the softer side.

Summary: Now, however, he couldn't fathom why she would be holding on to him like this. Like she would drift away if she let go.

Notes: Not much of a winter theme…also style shamelessly based on _Wolf Hall_ with the first line literally being inspired by a line on page 31 of the hardcover edition. Written for the Winter Challenge at Zutara Erotica on livejournal. And first Zutara fic.

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He lay in bed, his hand resting on her breast, much as he had done for the past twelve, almost thirteen years of his life. He, in the state between sleeping and dreaming, was enjoying the feel of his wife in his arms, the feel of her skin against his.

She shifted in his arms, turning so she faced him, moving her hands to grip his shoulders. He is startled into waking at this. She rarely grips him like this, like she was hanging on to him for her life. Katara seldom needed saving.

She had held him like this three times before. When Gran Gran (she had insisted, upon formally meeting him for the first time, that he use that title as well) had been sick. She, Katara, had sent Aang with the short message of "I need you". He jumped on Appa's back, mindless of his formal robe and crown, knowing that he needed to go to her. It had been a sight at the South Pole, the Fire Lord in full, if travel worn, regalia holding their brave master waterbender as she clung to him.

She had gripped him and cried, eight months into their marriage, when all the snide comments and sugary insults had finally broken her resolve. She waited till they were alone in the privacy of their rooms before flinging herself on him and wailing (in a very un Lady like manner) everything out to him. She sobbed how his (not hers, not theirs, _his_) courtiers claimed they, their Fire Lord and Lady, would never have children, how maybe there was something wrong with her because of her bending, how he should be raid of her and take a good, loyal Fire Nation wife. He held her (words of comfort were things he rarely received later in life, giving him little experience in giving them) as everything poured out, anchoring her to him. He murmured sweet words of "only you are for me" and "freeze the next person to say those things to you" into her hair as she gripped him. Seven months later their first son arrived, strong and healthy, showing signs of bending fire.

The last time she had clung to him he had been clinging to her in much the same way. Their second child (another boy) had been deathly ill. Court physicians, and the Fire Lady, had done everything in their power. Together, his parents prayed to every kind Spirit they could name for the health of their child. _Fight_, Zuko urged, _fight like I did, fight like your mother_. The boy's fever had broken by morning. Zuko call the boy his little fighter there after.

Now, however, he couldn't fathom why she would be holding on to him like this. Like she would drift away if she let go.

_Shhh_, he soothed, _I'm here_.

"Zuko," she pleaded, "something…something is wrong." Her tone, soft and urging, had him opening his eyes to hers, the faint light from moon seeping through the curtains to be reflected in her eyes. Silently, with a look she knew, he implored her continue. "I," she faltered, "I can't explain it, the feeling. Something is happening but I don't know what. It's," pause, "it's almost like the North Pole, but different some how." He wanted to say because she was older, because she had grown into her bending more, that she was more confident than she had been then, but he keeps silent as she looks into his eyes again, pleading for him to understand in ways he couldn't. But he tried to.

"Show me," she breathed, "everything is all right." Her words whisper across his ear like a caress. That he could understand, it was her way of asking for the comforting words he lacked. They had learned other ways of comforting each other.

He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, and finally (_finally_) her lips. His kisses were meant for warmth, how much he needed her as well.

Slowly, softly, gently his hands move down (across) her body. He knows his caresses serve the dual purposes of care and desire. Without them she wouldn't be ready to take him, with them he grounds her. She's mewling and it sounds half like a plea for safety and half lust. He traces his way down her body attentive to her soft gasps. When his nimble fingers reach her core he discovers she's wet but needs _more_ before he can enter. Teasing her nub he prepares her, she clutches his shoulders and arches into his touch.

Positioning himself he slides into her. Once they are fully joined he kisses her just as gently as before. "Ready?" he breathes into her ear. She nods and then he's moving and she still feels amazing, even after all these years. Her legs wrap around his, pulling him closer as he pushes into her.

She's gripping him in so many different ways now and he's not sure how much longer he can stand to be gentle. The sounds she's making undo him even more. He wants to drive into her, he wants to let go and stop making love and start _fucking_ but he knows that will have to wait till another time.

Suddenly he's on _his_ back (she's done this to him before, but never at times like this) and she's impaling herself on him. She moves faster, harder, and he feels the power she has over him. He doesn't complain, instead he grips her hips and changes his rhythm to match hers.

Now they're fucking and he's not sure what's changed but he can find out later. Right now his hands and senses are full of waterbender and he's _so_ close. She's panting, he's groaning and she's still _clenching_ until she screams his name and she's _tight_. With a final thrust of his hips he almost chokes on her name.

They lay there, a tangle of sheets and limbs, enjoying the afterglow.

Breaking the comfortable silence he inquires, "what changed?"

She looks up at him with her sated eyes and whispers, "I wanted to be on top." He accepts this, content having her seem better in his arms.

Neither lover noticed the lunar eclipse and neither really cared.

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Reviews, they are awesome and appreciated.


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